Thorstar: My Beginning
by ChristenedInBlood
Summary: A Prequel to 'On the Origin of Species'. Takes place in the year 962. Complete. (Warnings: A birth, but nothing graphic)


AN: Not what I should be writing, but I do enjoy writing stories that take place in this time period.

Warnings: A birth, but nothing graphic.

Thorstar: My Beginning

(Ribe, Denmark, 1st of December 962)

Hanna was pacing restlessly.

It was the beginning of yet another Hellish, Scandinavian winter and Hanna found herself longing for the slightly warmer climate of the New World every now and then, but immediately discarded the thought with an angry snarl.

She had lost her ability to defend herself several months ago, first wet and seasick on a boat and now confined to the Earl's house, and along with that she had lost her sense of humour and by now, she was always angry.

The rest of the household was avoiding her actively. Even her father, who was getting old with an aching back and creaking bones, seemed to prefer the cold outdoors to entertaining his irate daughter by the cooking fire.

Not that she cared, she mused, sending her hibernating sword a longing look. All their prayers unnerved her, made her realize just how easily death could come in her current state.

She hardly felt the child move, anymore. She guessed it was getting too big to move around inside her womb. But every little nudge soothed her for a while as it made her know that the child was still alive. A baby dead within the womb, meant almost certain death for the mother as well.

And Hanna had no intentions of dying. Or letting this child die for that matter. She was close to 30 years old. She wouldn't get another chance to have a child; this was it.

And then she stopped pacing. The simple exercise had worn her out, and she was panting as she took a seat by the fire with her legs crossed awkwardly and her hands pressed against her belly, mumbling her own personal prayer to the Goddess, Frigg. There was nothing else she could do. By now, she had done everything in her power and in the power of the Gods to ensure a safe birth.

Two days ago, they had unlocked every lock in the house and the entire household had unbraided their hair to leave no knots that could obstruct the birth, while Hanna had written the birth runes on her own belly every morning and every evening in her own blood.

Of course, the most important thing was missing. There was no father to acknowledge the child as his.

'I can do that myself, 'she tought in a moment of defiance. But the fact remained; until the child had been acknowledged, it was not considered a person and until then, the killing of it would not be considered murder. He or she might as well have been a thrall.

"Damn you to the depths of Hel, Elijah Mikaelson, "she said loud enough for the thrall working the millstones to look up at her in surprise.

Hanna gave her a tight, humourless smile that only seemed to frighten the poor girl, who started working even harder to finish her task and be allowed outside for the rest of the day.

(Break)

Her water broke the following morning and then came the pain in horrible, rising waves.

She wore a light tunic that reached just below her knees and did nothing to shelter her against the cold.

But the cold was the least of her worries, as she paced once again, walking the length of the house over and over. Now and then she hissed in anger that slowly rose to a fury along with the waves of pain, though mostly she would sing; praises to the beauty of Freya, to the wisdom of Odin and strength of Thor. Attributes, she wanted her child to possess, and she sang them into the making of this new life inside her, while it was being born.

But she didn't scream. No, screaming would make a timid child, and while she wanted it to be cautious and clever, she did not want to give birth to a coward.

At first the house was filled with women; thralls and free all coming together in song and prayer over this momentous event, but as the labour contiued from the still dark morning hours into the darkest hours of night with no intentions of bringing the child any time soon, their voices lowered to a concerned mumbling.

Hanna wasn't one to be gripped by despair, though. She got even angrier instead and the Earl, recognizing the beginnings of murder in her eyes, quickly ushered the women outside, whether it was sensible or not. He only left his wife, Bjørg, and their baby daughter behind with the increasingly aggravated Hanna.

And Hanna watched the young woman play with her child, her eyes hooded as she now wondered if it really was worth it all.

"Mind your breathing, "Bjørg suddenly said, ripping her out of her darkening thoughts. "Take deep breaths. It will calm you as well as the child ..."

"To Hel with it all! "Hanna snarled, trying to stretch her back. "We're both as good as dead."

"You don't know that, "Bjørg answered calmly. "As you know, it took me a full day and night to deliver my oldest daughter."

"I'd love to swap stories, "Hanna hissed back, angered even further by the other woman's calm. "But as you see, mine isn't over yet and I have no idea how it ends!"

"Hei." A tall man with a mischievous glint in his eyes walked through the door, giving Hanna a crooked smile. "Seems you could use some charming, male company to lighten the mood."

She gave him a cold look in return, grabbing her belly as the pain ripped through her again, making her feel as if she were being torn in two. "Piss off, Kol."

He simply laughed, taking a seat beside Bjørg. "How are things?"

She smiled brightly at him, making Hanna scoff. Kol had always had this strange power over women, but it seemed to have changed over the last year to something bordering on 'spellbinding.' Not that it surprised her, from what she had knew of his family.

And there was still the mystery surrounding _that night_ in the New World, where her child had been conceived_. _Elijah seeking her out with blood on his tunic, but no visible wounds. She vividly remembered how his mouth had pressed against her neck, him breathing in her scent as if it enticed him and physically hurt him at the same time. And he had thrown her aside and disappeared, faster than what should be humanly possible.

In the course of the following weeks, people had been dying, practically falling like flies. Some went in their sleep, only with a few bleeding wounds as a sign of foul play on their arms or necks. Others went violently, a few even losing their heads, which was what had sent her and her father running back over the seas with Kol tagging along. They had arrived back in Denmark only two months ago.

And now there was Kol with his eyes a shade brighter than they used to be, working his new magic hold over women and enjoying it immensely by the look of it. Even the 1-year-old Vigdis seemed to be watching him with adoration.

"... Since you all decided to stay here for the winter."

Hanna forced herself back to the miserable present in time to hear the end of Bjørg's prattling on about mundane everyday events with Kol staring at her breasts, mesmerized.

Hanna frowned. Or was it her neck?

And then the pain tore through her again, this time bringing her to her knees. She still didn't scream, simply gritted her teeth and let Kol and Bjørg lead her to her bedrest by the fire. And so, she lay there, sweating and panting, while Bjørg finally seemed to worry.

She quickly looked Hanna over, now frowning. "I really should get the midwife. This is taking far too long."

"Oh, by the Gods; just do it!" Hanna was feeling her anger slowly drain out of her. This couldn't be good. She had depended on it to keep her alive and to get her through this.

Bjørg got to her feet and quickly wrapped herself in her fur cape, disappearing into the now early morning hours of the second day of Hanna's suffering.

"Go away, "she got out, trying to roll away from Kol.

"Why is that?" He immediately rolled her back onto her back.

"If I'm going to die here, I don't want you to be the last thing I see."

He chuckled. "Still not lost all the fight in you, have you?" He rested a hand on her belly. "Mind if I prod you for a second?"

"Do your worst, "she said, thinking that no matter what it couldn't get any worse.

She was wrong.

Kol had what could only be described as an expert touch, his fingers wandered over her body, neither lingering nor hesitating, until they rested at the bottom of her belly. He prodded her once ... Twice ... Then a third time.

"Take a deep breath."

As she carried out his reqest, his fingers pushed into her lower belly, hard. And this time she _almost _screamed, but luckily ended up gulping for air instead.

"What did you do?" She demanded angrily as he pulled the furs covers back up over her trembling body.

He smiled almost kindly at her, but still with that mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't worry about it, "he said, moving away. "I'll get you some water ..."

"Oh, by Thor!" She suddenly yelled, but still not screaming, as a different kind of pain made her body feel like it was burning from the inside out. And then it stopped.

She sat up, wide-eyed, as the waves of pain finally left her. She blinked in confusion as Kol came back to her side and lifted the furs.

"Oh, here he is, "he said merrily, as he held up something tiny, something bloody and gasping for breath, and placed it on her belly.

Hanna stared at the newborn in shock and he looked back at her with the same look of surprise.

He had exceptionally long hair for a newborn; dark, almost black, and standing on ends. His eyes were a murky blue colour, but all newborns' eyes were blue. She knew that much.

He wasn't crying, but coughing and gasping instead and she instinctively rubbed his back.

"Why, he looks just like my brother, Henrik, "Kol noted. "Though a bit on the wispy side."

"What did you do?" Hanna asked again, almost a whisper this time.

Kol was washing his hands in a bowl of water, looking a bit sickened by the sight of the blood. "His head was stuck against your pelvic bone, "he explained quickly. "I just pushed him down and away from it."

"How did you know how to do that?"

Kol shrugged, smiling wryly. "I guess, my fingers just tell me things."

"Oh." She looked back down at the baby. He was still gasping. "Well, what do you know, "she mumbled while Bjørg and the midwife came running, just a minute too late.

(Break)

They had to keep him breathing, had to make his lungs unfold, and so they alternately dipped him in warm and cold water, until he was finally able to scream.

"That is not a healthy child, "the Midwife said with a displeased frown on her face. "There is no saying what ailments he could be suffering from. My suggestion is that you expose him."

And Hanna immediately grabbed her sword, which was never far away, sending the midwife fleeing for her life.

She knew what they all thought, but she didn't care. Leaving the baby out in the cold winter snow would be a quick death for him, instead of gasping and coughing himself to death, but Hanna spent the next ten nights sleeping with one eye open and the baby pressed against her side, and her days she spent rubbing his back and trying to coax him into eating.

Only once she woke by someone trying to take the baby, and she saw the Earl standing over her with a helpless expression on his face.

"It would be better this way, Hanna, "he said almost pleadingly. "It's not good for you to bond with such a sickly creature. It will only hurt more, when he dies."

She didn't attack, but she gave the Earl a look that had him immediately backing away.

She led no one near her son after that. Not even the Thralls, who would never dream of going against her wishes.

Not until the ninth day. When her father finally came to her while they were all gathered by the evening fire. He crouched down in front of her and lightly stroked the baby's hair with two fingers. "I suppose you don't want to name him after me, "he said, smiling slightly.

_Olaf? No. _

She shook her head.

"Good, so what is his name?" he asked, but she only shrugged, feeling bewildered. She hadn't thought of giving him a name yet. Thus far, he was just her child, nothing else.

And then her father took the baby from her arms and she just gaped in shock as he sat down in the Earl's chair and sat the baby on his lap.

"This is Thorstar Eliassøn, "he said with surprising authority for an elderly man. "He is blood of my blood; my family and my heir."

The Earl's family watched in silence, obviously not quite knowing what to make of this, until the Earl finally raised his cup in a salute. "Hail!" he said and then drained it.

"Hail!" The rest of the family followed suit, Bjørg smiling with the fire light dancing in her eyes.

Hanna felt the tears stinging her eyes and she blinked rapidly to fight them back, but a few still ran down her face.

Her child had a family. He was _someone _and one day, he would be a free man_. _There would be no more nights guarding him from the rest of the household, no worrying over what would happen to him, when she was gone. He would have wealth and a name.

Thorstar had been her great-grandfathers name; a fierce, Norwegian warrior. And even if her son didn't possess the ancestor's physical strength, she hoped he would have his fighting nature.

And there he was, nine days old and not knowing the enormity of this, staring up at his grandfather in wonder.

AN: Anyways, Thorstar was born on the 3rd of December.

Hel: According to old Norse beliefs, a warrior who die honourbly in battle, will go to Valhal, where he will live, battle and party until Ragnarok. But if he die of anything else, whether that is sickness or natural causes, he will go into the Underworld; Hel. It is said to exist beneath one of the three roots of the world tree, Yggdrasil. The ruler of 'Hel' is Loki's daughter, also named Hel.

Hei = Hi (Old Norse)


End file.
